Winnie the Pooh and his Hundred-Acre friends generally live very simple
lives and go about in the same clothes (or, in most cases, lack thereof)
day after day. However, one fun thing about the television series The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh is its expansive imaginative scope. Some episodes allow these plush pals to venture into more unconventional territory. In Cowboy Pooh, part of the Playtime series of Winnie the Pooh videos, we see three episodes along these lines, each spoofing a specific genre.
The Good, the Bad and the Tigger - This Western spoof, also included in the video Growing Up With Winnie the Pooh: It's Playtime With Pooh,
finds Pooh (Jim Cummings), Piglet (John Fiedler), Rabbit (Ken Sansom)
and Tigger (Paul Winchell) in Christopher Robin's (Tim Hoskins) bedroom
admiring his elaborate train set. When his mother calls him away, he
warns everyone not to play with the train while he's gone, but Tigger
can't resist, sparking a lengthy imaginative sequence set in the Old
West. Tigger is a train robber, Pooh is his unwitting accomplice, Piglet
is the sheriff determined to mete out justice however difficult that
may be, Rabbit and Eeyore are his faithful sidekicks and Gopher (Michael
Gough) is the grim judge eager to hand down a sentence for a
"swinging."
This episode is a lot of fun because of the way it
uses Western conventions, from dastardly villains to dusty,
half-deserted towns. The score seems Copeland-inspired, and the chase
sequences along the rickety railroad tracks prickle with excitement.
Lots of fun, too, are the outfits, complete with ten-gallon hats (and
one sombrero). Of course, this being Pooh, the story ends gently for all
concerned, but some pretty harrowing situations precede the satisfying
resolution that includes a lesson in forgiveness and fessing up to
wrongdoing.
Pooh Marks the Spot - I wish I'd watched this video a little sooner; I could have included its infectious pirate ditty in my list of nautical songs
for Talk Like a Pirate Day in September. "Yo ho, everyone knows a
pirate's life is free. Yo ho, wherever we go, pirates is what we'll be!"
Catchy. The pirates in question are Captain Piglet, Tigger, Pooh and
Gopher, who roam the Hundred-Acre Wood in a magnificent pirate ship on
wheels. I don't know who is responsible for the construction of
that contraption - though I suspect a collaboration between handyman
Gopher and creative Tigger - but I wish I had one. And someplace where I
could ramble around in it, of course.
Rabbit does not think so
highly of their pirate activities, especially once they start digging up
his garden in search of buried treasure, so he concocts a plan to trick
them and hopefully curtail their revelry. However, when a trippy dream
sequence leaves him with a boatload of guilt, Rabbit wonders if he went
too far. Aside from the brief dream, which is frankly pretty creepy,
this does not take place in a fantastical setting, but there are pirate
costumes aplenty as well as that remarkable ship. The conclusion
includes a cute twist that emphasizes the kindness and creativity of
these forest friends.
The Masked Offender - I'm pretty
sure that I've seen this before, but as Tigger's secret identity, the
Masked Offender, is all I remember, I wonder if I encountered it in
another episode or perhaps a book. The rest of the story doesn't seem
very familiar. In any case, this is another entertaining tale that seems
to draw from classic heroes like the Three Musketeers and Robin Hood.
Part of the episode occurs within a storybook Christopher Robin is
reading, and this is where we find the most elaborate costumes and
props, but Tigger doesn't do too badly in coming up with an outfit for
himself after the story inspires him to follow suit.
There's
humor in Tigger's choice of name, unintentionally changing "Defender" to
"Offender," since all of his attempts to "rescue" others only serve to
irritate them. Poor Piglet, roped into being his sidekick, doesn't know
how to tell Tigger his heroics are not welcome. This is another episode
that includes a mean-spirited practical joke orchestrated by Rabbit, but
in this case, he doesn't work alone. Owl (Hal Smith) is particularly
anxious to put a stop to Tigger's stunts. However, when a true emergency
beckons, will a chastened Tigger step up to the plate to finally be a
true hero? The storybook portions of this episode are great fun, but
it's the intense action sequence involving one of those impossibly steep
Hundred-Acre Wood canyons that really makes this episode.
Disney has released Winnie the Pooh Halloween specials before. Cowboy Pooh
includes none of those, but the three episodes, taken together, feel
Halloweenish because most of the characters spend the majority of their
time in costume. Thus, this is a particularly good video for October,
but any time of year, it may just inspire a creative playtime costume or
two.
Reviews and essays, including all my reviews posted on Epinions from 2000 to 2014.
Showing posts with label John Fiedler. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Fiedler. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 13, 2011
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Underground Gopher Steps Into the Light in Winnie the Pooh: Working Together
Gopher is mildly controversial among Winnie the Pooh fans because he is a Disney invention, having been introduced in Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree
so that there would be a distinctly American character (and an excuse
for several meta jokes involving the fact that he’s “not in the book.”) I
love Pooh in all forms, but my favorite version and what constitutes my
own personal canon is the Saturday morning cartoon The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh,
in which Gopher (Michael Gough) is a vital part of life in the
Hundred-Acre Wood and actually appears in more episodes than Christopher
Robin, Kanga, Roo, Owl and even Eeyore. For me, then, this industrious
digger with the mild speech impediment has a very important place in
Pooh lore, so I was happy to see so much of him in the video Winnie the Pooh: Working Together, part of the Learning collection of videos featuring episodes from the series.
Shovel, Shovel, Toil and Trouble - Gopher is heavily involved in each of the three episodes on this video, but his presence here is most pronounced as he giddily receives a shiny new power shovel he dubs Lucille. There’s a blush-worthy romantic fervor to his actions wherever Lucille is concerned, and in his blind passion, he tears around the Hundred-Acre Wood digging unwanted swimming pools and basements, wreaking havoc with the homes of his friends. Only Piglet (John Fiedler) sympathizes with his plight, but even he begins to think Gopher has gone too far when he comes home to find his house submerged. It’s up to this timid soul to put a stop to Gopher’s shenanigans without hurting his feelings. A great showcase for both Gopher and Piglet.
Tigger’s Shoes - In this episode, Tigger (Paul Winchell) is the one driving everyone, most notably Rabbit (Ken Sansom), up a wall. In an effort to keep him occupied, he challenges Tigger to reach the top of the dizzyingly high Castle Ridge in a single bounce. When Tigger fails to accomplish the task, he begs Rabbit for help training, prompting the persnickety bunny to play a rather mean prank that involves loading down a “special” pair of sneakers with nuts and bolts so Tigger will lose confidence in his own abilities. Gopher’s role here is mostly as advisor to Rabbit as he tries to make him feel guilty for his actions. This is a great episode for fans of Tigger or Rabbit, and the visual spectacle of the towering cliff is truly grand.
Easy Come, Easy Gopher - Once again, Rabbit is irritated, this time because Gopher’s plans for the fabled Ultimate Tunnel of his grandpappy’s dreams interfere with his house. When the opportunity presents itself, he changes Gopher’s schematics, not realizing that Gopher’s tunnel will now disrupt all of the other homes in the Wood. As in the second episode, we eventually have a remorseful Rabbit as he realizes that his meddling has only made the problem worse. Beyond the spirit of togetherness and forgiveness pervading the end of the episode, I love this one because of the brief introduction, via a tall tale, to Gopher’s grandpappy, who actually comes to the Hundred-Acre Wood himself in one of my favorite episodes of the series.
It’s very rare for an episode to incorporate all ten of the primary characters in the series, and in this case, none of the three episodes includes Eeyore, Kanga, Roo, Owl or Christopher Robin. While fans of those characters may be disappointed, those who come down on the side of Gopher will be satisfied with this video that emphasizes the importance of forgiveness and compromise.
Shovel, Shovel, Toil and Trouble - Gopher is heavily involved in each of the three episodes on this video, but his presence here is most pronounced as he giddily receives a shiny new power shovel he dubs Lucille. There’s a blush-worthy romantic fervor to his actions wherever Lucille is concerned, and in his blind passion, he tears around the Hundred-Acre Wood digging unwanted swimming pools and basements, wreaking havoc with the homes of his friends. Only Piglet (John Fiedler) sympathizes with his plight, but even he begins to think Gopher has gone too far when he comes home to find his house submerged. It’s up to this timid soul to put a stop to Gopher’s shenanigans without hurting his feelings. A great showcase for both Gopher and Piglet.
Tigger’s Shoes - In this episode, Tigger (Paul Winchell) is the one driving everyone, most notably Rabbit (Ken Sansom), up a wall. In an effort to keep him occupied, he challenges Tigger to reach the top of the dizzyingly high Castle Ridge in a single bounce. When Tigger fails to accomplish the task, he begs Rabbit for help training, prompting the persnickety bunny to play a rather mean prank that involves loading down a “special” pair of sneakers with nuts and bolts so Tigger will lose confidence in his own abilities. Gopher’s role here is mostly as advisor to Rabbit as he tries to make him feel guilty for his actions. This is a great episode for fans of Tigger or Rabbit, and the visual spectacle of the towering cliff is truly grand.
Easy Come, Easy Gopher - Once again, Rabbit is irritated, this time because Gopher’s plans for the fabled Ultimate Tunnel of his grandpappy’s dreams interfere with his house. When the opportunity presents itself, he changes Gopher’s schematics, not realizing that Gopher’s tunnel will now disrupt all of the other homes in the Wood. As in the second episode, we eventually have a remorseful Rabbit as he realizes that his meddling has only made the problem worse. Beyond the spirit of togetherness and forgiveness pervading the end of the episode, I love this one because of the brief introduction, via a tall tale, to Gopher’s grandpappy, who actually comes to the Hundred-Acre Wood himself in one of my favorite episodes of the series.
It’s very rare for an episode to incorporate all ten of the primary characters in the series, and in this case, none of the three episodes includes Eeyore, Kanga, Roo, Owl or Christopher Robin. While fans of those characters may be disappointed, those who come down on the side of Gopher will be satisfied with this video that emphasizes the importance of forgiveness and compromise.
Monday, October 24, 2011
Of Mice and Me, Both Skewered at the David Sedaris Reading at Mercyhurst College, 10-22-11
During my last semester of college, I was introduced to the work of David Sedaris
in a Creative Non-Fiction class. While it was a writing course, we read
several books in order to give us an idea of the different memoir
styles out there and integrate techniques employed by the writers into
our own work. Of all the writers I encountered in college for the first
time, Sedaris is one of my favorites. While some of his essays get
pretty off-color, there’s just something so irresistible about his
pointed observations about the absurdities of how people interact with
each other. Much of what he says rings very true to my ordinary
experience, while some of his more outlandish stories make me wonder how
he ever survived his 20s. He’s a riveting storyteller.
However, my experience of Sedaris is almost entirely limited to the page. I’m not much for audiobooks and I’ve rarely caught him on National Public Radio, where he often reads essays, but those who have listened to him more than read him have insisted that his work is far more entertaining when he reads it himself. Thus, when my brother Nathan told me that Sedaris would be giving a reading at Mercyhurst College, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to convince me to go too. Also attending were his girlfriend Morgan and my mom, whose exposure to Sedaris was very limited. I wasn’t sure what she would make of him, but while some of his discussion topics made her squirm a bit, she mostly found him very funny and astute.
We bought our tickets in late August, and by the time of the reading on October 22, the theatre, which accommodates several hundred, was sold out. It got started a bit late, allowing time for stragglers to make their way in from the lobby, and lasted just over an hour and a half, with Sedaris reading four full-length stories, followed by excerpts from his diary. He also took a little time out for questions from the audience at the end.
His first selection was The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, the story from which the cover illustration of his latest book is taken. This collection of animal fables is a departure for him, as he mostly writes of his own experiences. However, the tales here certainly have applicability to people, and that’s especially true of this story, which deals with prejudice, peer pressure and fear of the unknown getting in the way of a relationship. It’s a bittersweet story, yet it is not simply a case of a perfect relationship being ruined by disapproving relatives. It also demonstrates how much better things tend to look in hindsight, especially when they have been, to some extent, forcibly taken away.
The longest and most riotous of the stories was the second, Easy, Tiger, a New Yorker piece in which Sedaris discusses the oddities of the Pimsleur language instruction tapes that he has used to help him navigate other countries. In it, he shares several actual conversations used on these tapes, commenting on the uselessness of some of the banter and what the differences in dialogue between languages reveals about the countries in which they are spoken. For this, he played us samples of actual Pimsleur tapes and also demonstrated his skills in Japanese, Italian and German. The impact of his expressive voice, whose timbre is remarkably like that of John Fiedler, who played Piglet for about four decades in various Disney projects, is amplified by his impeccable comic timing. While this essay was mostly funny, it also posed some interesting questions about how and why we learn foreign languages and whether, as more and more people around the world learn English, Americans will cease to bother trying to bridge the communication gap themselves.
Atta Boy, which comments on today’s tendency toward over-indulgent parenting as compared with the brutal but effective tactics employed by his father and, to a lesser extent, mother, resonated strongly with many in the audience. Looking around, I could see a lot of people nodding in agreement with his disgust over the parents who threaten to sic the police on a man who lays a hand on their son to apprehend him after catching him at spray-painting a mailbox. His description of his own parents is howlingly funny, particularly his aggressive dad who hoards after-work snacks, threatens to pummel neighborhood smart-alecks and removes his pants during dinner – and, when the doorbell interrupts the meal, insists on answering the door himself. I think a lot of people felt pretty grateful for their families after hearing this essay.
The final essay focused on Sedaris’s experiences with various doctors, including one whose response to medical issues is too lackadaisical for his liking and another who subjects him to bizarre travel shows on mute while he is poking around in his mouth. This was the essay that inspired my brother, who recently graduated from college with a Fine Arts degree, to draw a mouse on a skewer for him as a gift in exchange for his autograph. It was as funny as the others, and we got to hear him speak French, but I was glad when it was over because all that medical talk was getting rather icky.
The diary entries were taken from the last two years and mostly commented on individuals who struck him as unusual or related jokes that people had told him at readings. These were invariably crude, as was a quip about a quiz show that most of the audience didn’t get, and it kind of worries me that I did. The funniest bit was probably his baffled description of the Occupy Wall Street protesters he encountered in the organic hipster wonderland of Burlington, Vermont. Most of these were very short, sometimes only a couple of sentences, and it was fun to get these quick laughs after the much longer stories.
The question and answer period wasn’t all that illuminating, especially since one of the questions was incomprehensible, but his recollection of the crummy Bangor, Maine motel where he stayed during this tour was hilarious. On the more serious side, he encouraged everyone to go out into the lobby and buy a copy of Peter Kessler’s River Town, a piece of immersion journalism about life among Chinese schoolchildren that particularly impressed Sedaris.
After the reading, the audience had three options: leave, head for the book table or line up for the signing. I’d brought a book, so I got in the signing line, though it took me a while to get there, especially since we bumped into a friend on the way out of the theater, and as a result, Mom and I wound up near the back of the line, which barely seemed to move at all in the first half hour. Nathan and Morgan opted to lounge around the lobby, where they had a good view of the signing table where Sedaris was engaging each person who came up to him in conversation. After more than an hour of waiting, Mom got Nathan to take her place in line while she found a bench, and I gave him the pen and notepad for him to draw his skewered mouse while we waited. As we drew closer, we caught snatches of his conversation with other attendees. I especially liked his request to the 13-year-old pianist ahead of us to, after his concert the next day, “Go out and do something autumnal. Rake some leaves, do something with an apple… I don’t know. Just go outside and be autumnal!”
When we finally made it to the table, I presented my book, the copy of Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk that Nathan had bought me for Christmas, and I mentioned that I had bought it for Nathan as well and that we’d snapped a picture of us holding up our identical books. He made a comment about the dangers of that happening in a family at Christmas and how he and his sister had bought each other the same CD or DVD on occasion. He signed the book “To Erin with friendly friendship” and handed it back… and then he noticed my “purse.” “I’m sorry, is that your purse?” he asked. I replied that it had started out as a camera bag and I ended up just carrying it around everywhere. It’s a clunky red and black thing, not ladylike in any sense of the word but certainly utilitarian. “I just have to say,” he persisted, “that is the most ungainly handbag I have ever seen. I mean, if there was a contest for ugly purses, that would take first prize!”
Well, what can I say? I’ve never claimed to fashion-conscious. I just sort of smiled and shrugged, and he shook his head and laughed, and then he noticed the button on the side. He asked what it said, and I explained that I’d picked it up in Salem, Massachussetts – the trip, incidentally, which made me decide to switch from raggedy ten-year-old purse to hardy compact camera bag – and that it read, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” Of course, he informed me that the dragon button just made the ensemble all that much worse, and then he fixed his eye on my green VeggieTales bracelet and asked if that was to go with the button, and I told him that it was a bracelet tied in with the kids’ video series VeggieTales. At this point, he was looking at me a bit like I was some sort of intergalactic visitor, and he laughed again and said, “You are absolutely adorable.”
Nathan should have gone first because I’d already introduced him as my brother, so the signature he got in his copy of Holidays on Ice was “Think Celine,” who Sedaris informed him is a designer of upscale handbags whose work he insisted Nathan track down so he could get me a less mortifying purse for Christmas. However, he seemed delighted with Nathan’s detailed doodle – “Oh! It’s a mouse on a skewer! Well, look at that!” – and then the two of them spent a few minutes discussing their favorite artists, so I think that Nathan probably managed to demonstrate that his visual tastes are a little more refined than his sister’s. We each selected a twisted postcard to tote home with us; I was hoping to snag the one cheerily chirping, “Let’s explore diabetes with owls!” but that was gone by the time I got there, so I had to satisfy myself with the Pekingese skull.
It was closing in on midnight by the time we left, so it was a full evening, and not only did I have the pleasure of listening to him share his keen insights with that wonderful delivery, I think I also got a taste for what it must feel like to be an inadequate American Idol contestant in front of Simon Cowell. Or Ugly Betty. But hey, at least I’m adorable!
However, my experience of Sedaris is almost entirely limited to the page. I’m not much for audiobooks and I’ve rarely caught him on National Public Radio, where he often reads essays, but those who have listened to him more than read him have insisted that his work is far more entertaining when he reads it himself. Thus, when my brother Nathan told me that Sedaris would be giving a reading at Mercyhurst College, it didn’t take a lot of persuading to convince me to go too. Also attending were his girlfriend Morgan and my mom, whose exposure to Sedaris was very limited. I wasn’t sure what she would make of him, but while some of his discussion topics made her squirm a bit, she mostly found him very funny and astute.
We bought our tickets in late August, and by the time of the reading on October 22, the theatre, which accommodates several hundred, was sold out. It got started a bit late, allowing time for stragglers to make their way in from the lobby, and lasted just over an hour and a half, with Sedaris reading four full-length stories, followed by excerpts from his diary. He also took a little time out for questions from the audience at the end.
His first selection was The Squirrel and the Chipmunk, the story from which the cover illustration of his latest book is taken. This collection of animal fables is a departure for him, as he mostly writes of his own experiences. However, the tales here certainly have applicability to people, and that’s especially true of this story, which deals with prejudice, peer pressure and fear of the unknown getting in the way of a relationship. It’s a bittersweet story, yet it is not simply a case of a perfect relationship being ruined by disapproving relatives. It also demonstrates how much better things tend to look in hindsight, especially when they have been, to some extent, forcibly taken away.
The longest and most riotous of the stories was the second, Easy, Tiger, a New Yorker piece in which Sedaris discusses the oddities of the Pimsleur language instruction tapes that he has used to help him navigate other countries. In it, he shares several actual conversations used on these tapes, commenting on the uselessness of some of the banter and what the differences in dialogue between languages reveals about the countries in which they are spoken. For this, he played us samples of actual Pimsleur tapes and also demonstrated his skills in Japanese, Italian and German. The impact of his expressive voice, whose timbre is remarkably like that of John Fiedler, who played Piglet for about four decades in various Disney projects, is amplified by his impeccable comic timing. While this essay was mostly funny, it also posed some interesting questions about how and why we learn foreign languages and whether, as more and more people around the world learn English, Americans will cease to bother trying to bridge the communication gap themselves.
Atta Boy, which comments on today’s tendency toward over-indulgent parenting as compared with the brutal but effective tactics employed by his father and, to a lesser extent, mother, resonated strongly with many in the audience. Looking around, I could see a lot of people nodding in agreement with his disgust over the parents who threaten to sic the police on a man who lays a hand on their son to apprehend him after catching him at spray-painting a mailbox. His description of his own parents is howlingly funny, particularly his aggressive dad who hoards after-work snacks, threatens to pummel neighborhood smart-alecks and removes his pants during dinner – and, when the doorbell interrupts the meal, insists on answering the door himself. I think a lot of people felt pretty grateful for their families after hearing this essay.
The final essay focused on Sedaris’s experiences with various doctors, including one whose response to medical issues is too lackadaisical for his liking and another who subjects him to bizarre travel shows on mute while he is poking around in his mouth. This was the essay that inspired my brother, who recently graduated from college with a Fine Arts degree, to draw a mouse on a skewer for him as a gift in exchange for his autograph. It was as funny as the others, and we got to hear him speak French, but I was glad when it was over because all that medical talk was getting rather icky.
The diary entries were taken from the last two years and mostly commented on individuals who struck him as unusual or related jokes that people had told him at readings. These were invariably crude, as was a quip about a quiz show that most of the audience didn’t get, and it kind of worries me that I did. The funniest bit was probably his baffled description of the Occupy Wall Street protesters he encountered in the organic hipster wonderland of Burlington, Vermont. Most of these were very short, sometimes only a couple of sentences, and it was fun to get these quick laughs after the much longer stories.
The question and answer period wasn’t all that illuminating, especially since one of the questions was incomprehensible, but his recollection of the crummy Bangor, Maine motel where he stayed during this tour was hilarious. On the more serious side, he encouraged everyone to go out into the lobby and buy a copy of Peter Kessler’s River Town, a piece of immersion journalism about life among Chinese schoolchildren that particularly impressed Sedaris.
After the reading, the audience had three options: leave, head for the book table or line up for the signing. I’d brought a book, so I got in the signing line, though it took me a while to get there, especially since we bumped into a friend on the way out of the theater, and as a result, Mom and I wound up near the back of the line, which barely seemed to move at all in the first half hour. Nathan and Morgan opted to lounge around the lobby, where they had a good view of the signing table where Sedaris was engaging each person who came up to him in conversation. After more than an hour of waiting, Mom got Nathan to take her place in line while she found a bench, and I gave him the pen and notepad for him to draw his skewered mouse while we waited. As we drew closer, we caught snatches of his conversation with other attendees. I especially liked his request to the 13-year-old pianist ahead of us to, after his concert the next day, “Go out and do something autumnal. Rake some leaves, do something with an apple… I don’t know. Just go outside and be autumnal!”
When we finally made it to the table, I presented my book, the copy of Squirrel Seeks Chipmunk that Nathan had bought me for Christmas, and I mentioned that I had bought it for Nathan as well and that we’d snapped a picture of us holding up our identical books. He made a comment about the dangers of that happening in a family at Christmas and how he and his sister had bought each other the same CD or DVD on occasion. He signed the book “To Erin with friendly friendship” and handed it back… and then he noticed my “purse.” “I’m sorry, is that your purse?” he asked. I replied that it had started out as a camera bag and I ended up just carrying it around everywhere. It’s a clunky red and black thing, not ladylike in any sense of the word but certainly utilitarian. “I just have to say,” he persisted, “that is the most ungainly handbag I have ever seen. I mean, if there was a contest for ugly purses, that would take first prize!”
Well, what can I say? I’ve never claimed to fashion-conscious. I just sort of smiled and shrugged, and he shook his head and laughed, and then he noticed the button on the side. He asked what it said, and I explained that I’d picked it up in Salem, Massachussetts – the trip, incidentally, which made me decide to switch from raggedy ten-year-old purse to hardy compact camera bag – and that it read, “Do not meddle in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and good with ketchup.” Of course, he informed me that the dragon button just made the ensemble all that much worse, and then he fixed his eye on my green VeggieTales bracelet and asked if that was to go with the button, and I told him that it was a bracelet tied in with the kids’ video series VeggieTales. At this point, he was looking at me a bit like I was some sort of intergalactic visitor, and he laughed again and said, “You are absolutely adorable.”
Nathan should have gone first because I’d already introduced him as my brother, so the signature he got in his copy of Holidays on Ice was “Think Celine,” who Sedaris informed him is a designer of upscale handbags whose work he insisted Nathan track down so he could get me a less mortifying purse for Christmas. However, he seemed delighted with Nathan’s detailed doodle – “Oh! It’s a mouse on a skewer! Well, look at that!” – and then the two of them spent a few minutes discussing their favorite artists, so I think that Nathan probably managed to demonstrate that his visual tastes are a little more refined than his sister’s. We each selected a twisted postcard to tote home with us; I was hoping to snag the one cheerily chirping, “Let’s explore diabetes with owls!” but that was gone by the time I got there, so I had to satisfy myself with the Pekingese skull.
It was closing in on midnight by the time we left, so it was a full evening, and not only did I have the pleasure of listening to him share his keen insights with that wonderful delivery, I think I also got a taste for what it must feel like to be an inadequate American Idol contestant in front of Simon Cowell. Or Ugly Betty. But hey, at least I’m adorable!
Labels:
David Sedaris,
Erie,
John Fiedler,
Memoirs,
Mice,
Nathan,
Writing
Monday, October 10, 2011
Wishing Stars and Pygmy Piglets Make The Wishing Bear a Memorable Pooh Video
Over the years since it was on the air, Disney has released several compilation videos featuring episodes from The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. The earliest are from the ten-volume Walt Disney Home Video series of which The Wishing Bear
is volume two. This video includes just two stories from the series,
both of them full-length episodes for a total of about 45 minutes. Both
also happen to be among my favorite episodes in the series, so I’m very
glad I happened upon this particular volume at the library sale over the
summer.
The Wishing Bear - One quiet wintry night, Christopher Robin (Tim Hoskins) takes Pooh (Jim Cummings) up to his favorite spot in the woods and shows him his very own wishing star. After teaching Pooh the “special wishing rhyme,” he tells the bear to close his eyes and make a wish. Of course, Christopher Robin knew he would wish for honey and came prepared. When a delighted Pooh tries to make more wishes on the spot, Christopher Robin warns that too many wishes could wear the star out but promises he can come back tomorrow. The next day, Pooh lets the secret slip to Piglet, Tigger and Rabbit, and after a valiant struggle to remember the rhyme, he leads them to the star, which goes behind a cloud as soon as they leave. When Pooh sees a shooting star immediately afterward, he is convinced that he wore out the star and sets about to grant his friends’ wishes himself.
This is a great episode for several reasons. It shows the powerful bond that exists between Christopher Robin and Pooh. It’s very funny, with Piglet (John Fiedler), Tigger (Paul Winchell) and Rabbit (Ken Sansom) each struggling with specific issues that lead to many complications for Pooh, whose attempts to remember the rhyme earlier in the episode are also quite amusing. He comes up with some very strange lines, my favorite of which is “Flap like an armadillo.” My biggest laugh-aloud moment comes later in the episode when Piglet asks Pooh, who has just been working on a plan to keep the bugs out of Rabbit’s house, about his strange headgear. Scrambling for an explanation that won’t blow his cover, Pooh tells him that its purpose is to keep sharks away, which of course sends Piglet into a panic. Classic!
However, the best thing about this episode is the determination and ingenuity Pooh shows in seeing to it that his friends get their wishes, or at least an approximation of them. It’s an idea that also turned up on the show during a Christmas episode that found Pooh filling in for Santa Claus after failing to get his letter out in time, but the episodes are distinct enough to keep either one from feeling redundant. It just goes to show what a kind and generous bear Pooh is. Even though so much of what he does is driven by the demands of his rumbly tumbly, ultimately his heart takes precedence.
The Piglet Who Would Be King - Like The Wishing Bear, this is a story about being generous to a friend. However, the circumstances are quite different. In this case, after Pooh gives Piglet a spring he finds on the ground as a “friendship gift,” Rabbit and Tigger tell Piglet that he must reciprocate by giving Pooh the grandest gift of honey imaginable. A small pot will not do; he needs something truly extravagant. After their first honey-collecting attempts go awry, Tigger proposes an audacious idea: undertake a quest to the Land of Milk and Honey, where they will find all the honey they could ever want. As before, Piglet uncomfortably goes along with the plan, and once they get there and find it populated by the Pigglies, who look just like Piglet but are half his size, he becomes more and more distressed. They regard him as their rightful king, a job he is reluctant to accept, but Tigger and Rabbit insist he take the job so they can enjoy its perks. As their selfishness escalates, Piglet must find the courage to truly step into his role as ruler.
Now, this is a very strange episode positing that deep in the Hundred-Acre Wood, or just beyond it, lies a secret civilization of pygmy Piglets resting in the shadow of a volcano. Between Piglet’s house and the Land of Milk and Honey, they come across a hysterical hyena, a monkey marching band led by a burly primate in a sharp red suit and a thick Scandinavian accent, and a herd of stampeding pint-sized elephants. It’s weird, all right. But it’s an excellent episode full of adventure. Tigger and Rabbit even sing an original song, Nothing’s Too Good for a Friend, as they drag Piglet through treacherous paths toward the Land of Milk and Honey.
The question is, what are the true qualities of a friend? Tigger and Rabbit spend this entire episode as Piglet’s dueling advisors, united in their desire to force Piglet into procuring an unusually complicated gift but bickering over every detail along the way. Both of them are extremely bossy, and even when their intentions are good, their way of doing things isn’t the best way for Piglet. Hence, this episode is about Piglet learning how to do like Neville Longbottom in the first Harry Potter book and assert himself when he believes they are in the wrong instead of being a pushover. Two excellent quotes come out of this process: “People should do things for friends not because they have to but because they want to” and “Even very small animals must stand up for what’s right.” As Piglet’s timidity is a characteristic to which I can relate far too easily, I find this an inspiring episode.
As always, I wish that it was possible to buy a DVD boxed set of the entire series, but if you’re going to get them piecemeal, I highly recommend this second volume. If you’re wishing for a pair of great Pooh stories, your wish will certainly be granted.
The Wishing Bear - One quiet wintry night, Christopher Robin (Tim Hoskins) takes Pooh (Jim Cummings) up to his favorite spot in the woods and shows him his very own wishing star. After teaching Pooh the “special wishing rhyme,” he tells the bear to close his eyes and make a wish. Of course, Christopher Robin knew he would wish for honey and came prepared. When a delighted Pooh tries to make more wishes on the spot, Christopher Robin warns that too many wishes could wear the star out but promises he can come back tomorrow. The next day, Pooh lets the secret slip to Piglet, Tigger and Rabbit, and after a valiant struggle to remember the rhyme, he leads them to the star, which goes behind a cloud as soon as they leave. When Pooh sees a shooting star immediately afterward, he is convinced that he wore out the star and sets about to grant his friends’ wishes himself.
This is a great episode for several reasons. It shows the powerful bond that exists between Christopher Robin and Pooh. It’s very funny, with Piglet (John Fiedler), Tigger (Paul Winchell) and Rabbit (Ken Sansom) each struggling with specific issues that lead to many complications for Pooh, whose attempts to remember the rhyme earlier in the episode are also quite amusing. He comes up with some very strange lines, my favorite of which is “Flap like an armadillo.” My biggest laugh-aloud moment comes later in the episode when Piglet asks Pooh, who has just been working on a plan to keep the bugs out of Rabbit’s house, about his strange headgear. Scrambling for an explanation that won’t blow his cover, Pooh tells him that its purpose is to keep sharks away, which of course sends Piglet into a panic. Classic!
However, the best thing about this episode is the determination and ingenuity Pooh shows in seeing to it that his friends get their wishes, or at least an approximation of them. It’s an idea that also turned up on the show during a Christmas episode that found Pooh filling in for Santa Claus after failing to get his letter out in time, but the episodes are distinct enough to keep either one from feeling redundant. It just goes to show what a kind and generous bear Pooh is. Even though so much of what he does is driven by the demands of his rumbly tumbly, ultimately his heart takes precedence.
The Piglet Who Would Be King - Like The Wishing Bear, this is a story about being generous to a friend. However, the circumstances are quite different. In this case, after Pooh gives Piglet a spring he finds on the ground as a “friendship gift,” Rabbit and Tigger tell Piglet that he must reciprocate by giving Pooh the grandest gift of honey imaginable. A small pot will not do; he needs something truly extravagant. After their first honey-collecting attempts go awry, Tigger proposes an audacious idea: undertake a quest to the Land of Milk and Honey, where they will find all the honey they could ever want. As before, Piglet uncomfortably goes along with the plan, and once they get there and find it populated by the Pigglies, who look just like Piglet but are half his size, he becomes more and more distressed. They regard him as their rightful king, a job he is reluctant to accept, but Tigger and Rabbit insist he take the job so they can enjoy its perks. As their selfishness escalates, Piglet must find the courage to truly step into his role as ruler.
Now, this is a very strange episode positing that deep in the Hundred-Acre Wood, or just beyond it, lies a secret civilization of pygmy Piglets resting in the shadow of a volcano. Between Piglet’s house and the Land of Milk and Honey, they come across a hysterical hyena, a monkey marching band led by a burly primate in a sharp red suit and a thick Scandinavian accent, and a herd of stampeding pint-sized elephants. It’s weird, all right. But it’s an excellent episode full of adventure. Tigger and Rabbit even sing an original song, Nothing’s Too Good for a Friend, as they drag Piglet through treacherous paths toward the Land of Milk and Honey.
The question is, what are the true qualities of a friend? Tigger and Rabbit spend this entire episode as Piglet’s dueling advisors, united in their desire to force Piglet into procuring an unusually complicated gift but bickering over every detail along the way. Both of them are extremely bossy, and even when their intentions are good, their way of doing things isn’t the best way for Piglet. Hence, this episode is about Piglet learning how to do like Neville Longbottom in the first Harry Potter book and assert himself when he believes they are in the wrong instead of being a pushover. Two excellent quotes come out of this process: “People should do things for friends not because they have to but because they want to” and “Even very small animals must stand up for what’s right.” As Piglet’s timidity is a characteristic to which I can relate far too easily, I find this an inspiring episode.
As always, I wish that it was possible to buy a DVD boxed set of the entire series, but if you’re going to get them piecemeal, I highly recommend this second volume. If you’re wishing for a pair of great Pooh stories, your wish will certainly be granted.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Christopher Robin Faces Some Grown-Up Problems in Winnie the Pooh: Growing Up
When I was a kid, I had a bit of a crush on Christopher Robin. Of
course, the idea of Christopher Robin having a crush on anyone seems
pretty foreign to the world of Winnie the Pooh. However, in the video Winnie the Pooh: Growing Up, part of the Learning series of videos that use episodes of The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh
to demonstrate simple lessons, it doesn’t seem quite so far out of the
realm of possibility. The two episodes on this video both deal with
Christopher Robin (Tim Hoskins) maturing, and hints of romance enter the
picture in the second episode, though they loom much larger in the
minds of his fluffy friends than his own…
Home Is Where the Home Is - In this episode, Christopher Robin’s mom (Patricia Parris) leaves him alone for a few hours with instructions to clean up the house and not to disturb the bust of a very grumpy-looking Great-Grandfather Eustace. Pooh (Jim Cummings), Piglet (John Fiedler), Tigger (Paul Winchell) and Rabbit (Ken Sansom) try to help him tidy up the place Mary Poppins-style, but they end up making an even bigger mess and the statue topples in the process. Afraid to face his mother, he decides to live in the woods, but nobody’s house seems like a good fit and taking the first bus to who-knows-where begins to look like the best option. But is it?
This is a fun group episode which has the above five characters together for a majority of the story. Eeyore (Peter Cullen) turns up a bit later, and while he’s still a sad sack, particularly since his house keeps crumbling on him, he’s more of a sage, dispensing bits of homespun wisdom. While the others try to help their friend run from his problems, he is the one who gently encourages him to return home and face them. A fun but also serious episode about taking personal responsibility for one’s mistakes.
Grown But Not Forgotten - This episode is one of my favorites, in part because it starts out with Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and Rabbit playing a rousing game of Squishball, an anything-goes, make-up-the-rules-as-you-go-along game that I at one time declared the funnest game in the world. My brother, my neighbor and I used to play our own version, though it was never quite as satisfying as it is in the Hundred-Acre Wood, where there is so much open space and so much oddball equipment and where one of the players – Piglet – keeps getting confused for the ball.
But that’s ultimately a small part of the episode. The bulk of it deals with the quartet’s discovery that Christopher Robin has been invited to a formal party – with (GASP!) girls. He has to dress up, he has to show proper manners and he might even have to dance. At first they try to help him get out of going, but when his mom won’t back down, Rabbit decides to instruct him in the finer points of etiquette and Tigger gives him dance lessons. During a practice tea party, Rabbit sternly demonstrates the correct sipping posture: “Proper gentlemen drink with the pinky extended – like so!” My brother and I have imitated this little demonstration time and again even since we first saw the episode.
While it’s not much longer than the first episode on this video, it feels longer because there’s just so much story stuffed into it. Although Pooh never quite understands what all the worry is about and simply hopes Christopher Robin goes to the party and has fun, the other three, spurred on by a goofy scenario in which Tigger imagines Christopher Robin’s life as an adult with a wife (played by Tigger) and a baby (played by Gopher (Michael Gough)), begin to panic. If they can’t prove themselves sufficiently grown up stat, they are sure to lose his friendship forever. An incredibly sweet and funny episode about the balance between embracing new opportunities and staying true to one’s friends.
As always, I’m a little annoyed at the way that Disney chose to package these. It seems like a money-grubbing move to get people to buy a whole library of videos at ten bucks a pop when you could have a boxed DVD set that would take up a lot less room and ultimately be less expensive. That typical complaint aside, though, I love these two episodes, which complement each other very well, allowing Christopher Robin to do just the tiniest bit of growing up without any fear of his outgrowing his wonderful friends in the Hundred-Acre Wood.
Home Is Where the Home Is - In this episode, Christopher Robin’s mom (Patricia Parris) leaves him alone for a few hours with instructions to clean up the house and not to disturb the bust of a very grumpy-looking Great-Grandfather Eustace. Pooh (Jim Cummings), Piglet (John Fiedler), Tigger (Paul Winchell) and Rabbit (Ken Sansom) try to help him tidy up the place Mary Poppins-style, but they end up making an even bigger mess and the statue topples in the process. Afraid to face his mother, he decides to live in the woods, but nobody’s house seems like a good fit and taking the first bus to who-knows-where begins to look like the best option. But is it?
This is a fun group episode which has the above five characters together for a majority of the story. Eeyore (Peter Cullen) turns up a bit later, and while he’s still a sad sack, particularly since his house keeps crumbling on him, he’s more of a sage, dispensing bits of homespun wisdom. While the others try to help their friend run from his problems, he is the one who gently encourages him to return home and face them. A fun but also serious episode about taking personal responsibility for one’s mistakes.
Grown But Not Forgotten - This episode is one of my favorites, in part because it starts out with Pooh, Piglet, Tigger and Rabbit playing a rousing game of Squishball, an anything-goes, make-up-the-rules-as-you-go-along game that I at one time declared the funnest game in the world. My brother, my neighbor and I used to play our own version, though it was never quite as satisfying as it is in the Hundred-Acre Wood, where there is so much open space and so much oddball equipment and where one of the players – Piglet – keeps getting confused for the ball.
But that’s ultimately a small part of the episode. The bulk of it deals with the quartet’s discovery that Christopher Robin has been invited to a formal party – with (GASP!) girls. He has to dress up, he has to show proper manners and he might even have to dance. At first they try to help him get out of going, but when his mom won’t back down, Rabbit decides to instruct him in the finer points of etiquette and Tigger gives him dance lessons. During a practice tea party, Rabbit sternly demonstrates the correct sipping posture: “Proper gentlemen drink with the pinky extended – like so!” My brother and I have imitated this little demonstration time and again even since we first saw the episode.
While it’s not much longer than the first episode on this video, it feels longer because there’s just so much story stuffed into it. Although Pooh never quite understands what all the worry is about and simply hopes Christopher Robin goes to the party and has fun, the other three, spurred on by a goofy scenario in which Tigger imagines Christopher Robin’s life as an adult with a wife (played by Tigger) and a baby (played by Gopher (Michael Gough)), begin to panic. If they can’t prove themselves sufficiently grown up stat, they are sure to lose his friendship forever. An incredibly sweet and funny episode about the balance between embracing new opportunities and staying true to one’s friends.
As always, I’m a little annoyed at the way that Disney chose to package these. It seems like a money-grubbing move to get people to buy a whole library of videos at ten bucks a pop when you could have a boxed DVD set that would take up a lot less room and ultimately be less expensive. That typical complaint aside, though, I love these two episodes, which complement each other very well, allowing Christopher Robin to do just the tiniest bit of growing up without any fear of his outgrowing his wonderful friends in the Hundred-Acre Wood.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)